Suicide Mission
by Eclaireur
Summary: This story is based on facts. It's something that took place in my life. Granted...another place and another time. Also being able to use the characters from Combat made a difficult subject easier for me to write about. I hope you understand. This is a touchy subject...be warned! Éclaireur


"Suicide Mission"

By

Éclaireur

(petite_sœur)

"Listen up you guys, this is the new replacement, Levine." The private walking in with Sergeant "Chip" Saunders stops the introductions and corrects him.

"That's pronounced LaVigne, Sergeant...It's French."

"French, huh?" Kirby, the company's BAR man interjects. "You from Louisiana too?"

"Louisiana?" LaVigne gives Kirby a puzzled glance, then continues. "No...No...I'm from a small town in Massachusetts, Indian Orchard."

"What, they speak French in Massachusetts too? Hell...don't no one speak English in America no more?

"Can it Kirby" Caje, short for Cajun, is First Squads scout and French translator. Sitting over by what's left of a wall in the barn they're presently bivouacked in, the Cajun was busy cleaning his Garand. Kirby gives his best friend a hurt look.

"No offense Caje...Just asking."

"Shut up Kirby." Sergeant Saunders, knowing it is best to stop the talkative private before he gets on a role, continues "Like I was trying to say, this is La...Vigne...right?" The sergeant says the name a bit slower. LaVigne nods his head to let the man know he got it right. "OK LaVigne, this is Caje, Littlejohn, Billy, our medic, Doc and our BAR man, Kirby." Each man nods his head in the replacements direction as he hears his name rattled off. "Just so ya know" Sergeant Saunders continues "We'll probably be leaving in a couple of hours, so I'd suggest you grab something to eat and rest up a bit. I hear it's gonna to be a long day."

"Hell Sarge, are we the only one's out here they got to fight this damn war?"

It seemed like everyone within ear shot of Kirby's complaining replied with the same...

"Shut up Kirby."

Sergeant Saunders took one last look at his resident trouble-maker, shook his head in annoyance, then walked out. Heading in the direction of the CP to find out what Lt. Hanley actually had in store for them, he too, felt as if First Squad was the only squad out there fighting this war!

"Hey Levine?" Kirby turns his attention toward the new man.

"That's La...Vigne...Kibby...right?" The new man says with a smile. Caje looks up from cleaning his Garand, with a twinkle in his eye, he adds,

"Yeah...la vigne, it means "the vine" he stops and gives LaVigne a sideways glance then adds "Kibby".

"Very funny Cajun. I can see where this is going. I'm gonna do what the Sarge says and get some chow...I'd suggest you all do the same." Kirby turns his back on the group, shoulders down a bit, and walks out toward the mess tent.

"Hey Caje, if la vigne means 'the vine' what does le may mean?" Billy Nelson, the 'kid' of the squad, comes over to join in the conversation with the new comer.

"Nothing really, just 'the may'. Not all names have to have a meaning." The younger man looks at his squad mate and scratches his head, thinking.

"Well do ya think 'Nelson' means anything?"

"Yeah", the big man known as Littlejohn chimes in, "it means kid who asks to many questions" Littlejohn quips.

"Ah darn-it Littlejohn" the younger man whines, "How am I ever going to learn if I don't ask?"

"That's OK Billy, you keep asking and if I know the answer, I'll tell you, deal?"

"Thanks Caje, that's a deal!"

The usually quite Cajun, who mostly keeps to himself, looks up from his cleaning and asks,

"Avez-vous par hasard parler français?" And to Caje's delight, LaVigne answers back

"Mais bien sûr, mon ami. Quoi d'autre?" For the next couple of hours, all that is heard in the ramshackle little barn the men have called home for the past couple of days, is a non stop steady stream of French. It's like a release valve for Caje. Littlejohn, Billy and Doc all exchange hidden smiles, knowing that for the scout to be able to not only think in his native tongue, but to actually converse with someone, someone, that is, other than asking the locals about the "bousche", was doing the Cajun good. LaVigne seemed to be fitting in nicely with everyone...well, almost everyone.

"God Caje, is that all we're going to hear from now on? All that 'Parlie vou' stuff?" Kirby had just stepped in from coming back from chow and had the need to hear the sound of his own voice. "Ya gonna forget how to talk right if ya keep this up."

"Don't worry Kirby" Caje looks over at his forlorn friend "I won't forget how to talk to you. You're still my 'bon ami'"

"Yeah, and that means 'Good Friend' and don't you forget it." Kirby raises his finger and pokes at the chest of the new man.

"I'll try not to Kirby." LaVigne quips back "Who knows, maybe we can become 'bon amis' also? Non?"

"No, I don't think that's gonna happen. I only got room for one 'bone amie' and that's Caje. No good to have more...don't get close...right Caje?" Caje smiles over at his jealous friend and reply's..."Right Kirby"

Yeah, Don't Get Close!

Like you were close to Theó, Doc, who had followed the conversation, thought. To close...grew up together, enlisted together, hit the beach together, then Theó went and done something without his 'bon ami'...He went an got himself killed! From what Sarge told him of that day, it nearly ruined the man. Suddenly he was alone! Alone and scared! What would any man do in that situation? He ran...not far...but he still ran! Luckily, Marcelle found him. Called him an "American Hero" "Non" he tells her..."I'm no hero...Je ne suis pas un héros." But he WAS a 'Héros'. He went back! He not only went back, but he brought help! And they brought weapons! Bottles filled with gasoline for bombs and two machine guns. Sarge took out the tank with the gasoline bombs and they rescued the British paratroopers . Yeah, Doc thought, Caje really was a Hero! But Caje also try's to go by the same rule they all try to go by, DON'T...GET...CLOSE! And Doc could sense that the Cajun scout was well on his way to breaking his number one rule.

"OK, Saddle Up." Kirby takes his time getting up,

"Were to now Sarge?"

"Just a recon. Just an in and out deal"

"I thought you said this was going to be a long day" Billy reminds him.

"Well I'm told the recon is just in and out...I didn't say nothing about getting there. Pack lite, it's going to be a long hike! Caje...take the point." The collective groan goes through every last man, but of course the loudest comes from one Private William G. Kirby!

Hiking back after a not so eventful recon, the long day was still not over. But yeah, it turned out S2, for once, had gotten it right. No krauts going in and except for running into one small patrol that they managed to skirt around, no krauts coming out. Good…Long…Day!

"Ya got to give the Sarge credit for this one"

"How's that Littlejohn?" Billy asks his friend.

"Well he said in and out and it was just that.

"And he also said long hike." Kirby interrupts "And he sure got that one right too. I ain't going be able to get my boots back on once we get back and I take them off! My damn blister have blisters!"

In unison..."Shut up Kirby"

Day finally over, Sergeant Saunders finds himself sitting down near the small fire someone had started in what remains of their temporary home. In the fire sits, what looks like, the charred remains of someone's helmet.

"Hey Doc, is the coffee ready?" The squads tired looking scout asks. Billy, hearing the question, turns around and groans.

"Doc, please don't tell me that's my helmet?"

"OK Billy, I won't tell you and yeah, Caje, the coffee will be ready in a minute."

A slight smile spreads across the Sergeants face. Looking a little worse for wear, he reaches into his jacket pocket to take out his smokes. Taking one out of the pack, he puts it between his lips, then lights it. One long drawn out drag later he leans back against what's left of the barns south side wall, closes his eyes and listens to his men.

"What da ya mean LaVigne, Why'd I join up?"

"Just that, Kirby. What brought you into this mans Army?"

"Hell, Uncle Sam did...I was dragged in kicking and screaming!"

"Nice there Kirby, real patriotic" Caje sarcastically replies to his friends answer.

"Oh ya, then you go ahead and tell us how you got here, college boy!"

"My stories no better than yours, really. Only they didn't drag me in. I went down and enlisted." Nods of approval meet his statement.

"Mon Dier, don't think I was any more patriotic than Kirby, cause I wasn't . I did it for the wrong reason. After Mireille..." He glances over at Kirby. Not wanting to see the sorrow in the other mans eyes, Caje looks away quickly.

"Mon Père...my father, told me non, you have no business over in some other country fighting and maybe dying...for what? Do you even know for what, college boy? I forbid it! Well that's all it took. I went down the next day and enlisted. I may not of known why then, but now, yeah, I know now why I'm here now! Thankfully, mon père admits he does too!" Caje reaches over to the helmet to get some of the thick slug the Army liked to call coffee. Sitting down, trying to warm his hands up around the steaming cup, the Cajun turns to his fellow Frenchman and says,

"OK LaVigne, what's your story?" Michael LaVigne, sitting there, with these men he now considers friends, decided it was time to spill who he was and why he was here, in France, away from his family.

"You have a what!" Billy squeaked,

"Yeah, yeah...I'm an old married man with a wife and kid!" Then he went on..."well I'm not really still married to Claire. We're legally divorced. Long story short, I meet her through a pal of mine who was in the Army and married to her sister. We, uh, got together kind of and it kind of led to us expecting our daughter. Turns out I was her first and what could I do? We got married, had Janèen and two years later got divorced"

I found out in those two years that I not only was Claire's first love...I was her first everything! First date, first man, first you know what. This girl never did anything till I came along. Ya know, she was a real sweet, good little Catholic girl and I made her a woman."

"Well hell" Kirby pipes up, "good for you!"

"No, not really Kirby. The problem was, just that, being the first. She never got a chance to find out who she was. All of a sudden, here's this young girl, thrown into the role of wife and mother and along the way she lost herself. So one day she decides she had to go find "her". I put up quite a few barriers at first, but she keep knocking em down, till one day I said...OK..fine...you go find out who Claire is and when you do...if you do...you'd better hope Michael is still waiting for you. So off she went, with my little girl in tow. We filed for divorce, it was granted and that's where we're at right now."

"That's really to bad LaVigne" Littlejohn had been listening intensely to the mans story. Didn't really know what to say, but kind of thought he should say something.

"Thanks Littlejohn, but it doesn't end there. Ya see, I did the same dumb thing you did Caje, told myself, ta heck with her." Caje, not wanting to get into a personal discussion at the moment, shook his head in agreement with LaVigne's statement.

LaVigne continues,

" I marched down to the recruitment center right after the divorce was final and enlisted. Well that's all it took. Claire came flying back home. Begs me to give us another chance...good timing right? As I'm getting ready to ship out? But hey, we had a couple of great days before I had to leave and she says for our families sake, she'll wait for me. So like they say "All's well that ends well."

"Glad it's going to work out for you LaVigne. And I hate to have to do this, but lights out. Word is, we're up at o'dark thirty tomorrow. So get some sleep." Basically what he heard next was a collective "Right Sarge."

"Looks like Michael's fitten in pretty darn good, don't ya think Sarge?" Doc, who had listened to the men telling their stories walks over and takes a seat over by his NCO.

"Yeah Doc, I think your right."

"Crazy story though, about his wife and all."

"Yeah, I agree." Doc, ignoring the Sergeant's

obvious attempt to try to end their conversation, continues...

"I've notice even Kirby cooling down a bit toward him. Ya know, with him having to share Caje and all."

"Yeah, I've noticed that too." Saunders reply's wearily.

"I got to give ol' Caje credit for that though." Doc rattles on.

"How so Doc?" The tired Sergeant sleepily answer.

"Well, I've noticed when he an LaVigne's been chatten a bit in French, he'll stop and look around. If he see's that Kirby's within ear shot, he starts talking in English so as Kirby don't feel left out. Kinda real nice of old Caje, don't ya think?"

"Real nice, Doc. Well, I don't know about you, but I for one need sleep, so if ya don't mind..." The sergeant pulls his camo down to cover his eyes, an sign that 'this conversation is over' then adds..."Good night Doc."

Doc looks up, notices the helmet pulled down and says "Don't mind at all Sarge, same here."

Well the next day dawned looking as bleak as the day before and the day before that. Cold and dreary was the forecast and it didn't do much for the men's moral. Littlejohn, Nelson and LaVigne were outside standing by the little fire Doc already had going.

"So Caje was married I see. How come he didn't tell me?"

"It's kind of personal. He doesn't like to talk about it much." Littlejohn answers. Then Kirby, not able to keep quite, cuts into the conversation.

"Caje is like one of those spiders." Kirby starts off.

"What the hell are you talking about little man?" Littlejohn gives Kirby a questioning look.

"You know...those spiders. I've read about them somewhere, those 'Black Widower Spiders'...ya know."

"Oh good God Kirby...could you possibly be any dumber?"

"What?"

"I think what our little friend here is trying to tell you LaVigne, in a way only he could do, is that Caje's wife died and he's a widower."

"Well that's what I just said...Caje is like that spider...the black widower spider."

"Kirby"...Littlejohn adds, "It's a black "Widow" spider."

"Mon Dier...I guess I really stepped in it there, didn't I?" LaVigne, shaking his head at his careless assumption.

"Don't worry about it LaVigne. Caje knows ya didn't mean anything by it. Hell, we didn't know till recently ourself's. Caje doesn't like to talk to much about personal stuff."

"I guess not." was all LaVigne could think to say.

You could see the jeep coming a good 10 minutes before it arrived. Nothing special about it. But Caje, who seemed to know more than he should be able to know, had that odd little feeling he gets when things were about to change. And not in a good way. Something told him to be ready and when the jeep pulled up, he was right there waiting for it.

"Is this King Company, second platoon, first squad?" The driver of the jeep asked no one in particular. Various answers hit the man at once...

"Sure is buddy..."

"Yeah, looks like ya found us..." and of course from you know who...

"Who wants to know?..." Anyway, the driver looks the motley crew over, then with a smile on his face announces,

"Mail Call". Sounds of happy voices hit the cold air! And of course one sour one...

"Why didn't ya just say so, ya idget?"...

"Shut-up Kirby..."

"Kirby"..."right here"...

"Nelson...Nelson"...

"LeMay"..."yeah"...

"Littlejohn...LaVeen"...

"That's LaVigne!" More than one voice is heard with the correction!

Doc comes walking up smiling "Anything for me?"

"Sure Doc...I'm sure this belongs to you" Doc sighs then says,

"What gave it away...the big red cross on the side? Thanks." Doc says sourly.

"Oh and a letter too."

"Hey...great! It's from my dad, thanks pal!"

"Anything for you, Doc!" The driver good naturally pats the corpsman on his shoulder then climes back into his jeep and speeds away.

Caje, still reading his letter, shares with the squad, "Hey, it's from mon petite sœur...my little sister...says here my nephew is starting to walk!"

"Wasn't he just hatched a while back? How could he be walking already?"

"Kirby, he was BORN over a year ago, you idiot!"

"Hey, that's not nice, I was just asken, that's all!"

"Insinuating that my sister lays eggs is nice?" Sargent Saunders appears out of the barn and starts walking over to join his men.

"OK, OK that's enough you two."

"But Sarge I was just trying to make polite conversation and..."

"Shut-up Kirby."

"Well, OK but I ..." Kirby walks away grumbling to himself. The Sargent looks over at his scout and see the big smile spreading across his face!

"God, those two are going to be the death of me yet" he thinks to himself. "OK, saddle up. Where's LaVigne?"

"I think he went back into the barn. Looks like he got a letter from his wife. Don't blame him for not wanting to read it around ol "Kibby" here. After what he said about my sister, LaVigne's smart to read it in private." Caje gives Kirby an accusing look. Kirby looks back at his best friend with a look of "now what did I do?" on his face.

"Caje go get him. You, me, Kirby and LaVigne leave in 10."

"Oh come on Sarge...Why can't ya take Littlejohn or Nelson for a change? Huh?"

"Kirby, just do as your told. Pack light, we won't be gone long."

Caje, walking into the barn, sees LaVigne sitting on a barrel over by the stairs that leads to what's left of the hayloft. His feet are apart and he's hunched over, both hands in front of him, clenched in tight fists. In one hand, it looks to Caje, as if he has a waded up piece of paper.

"We're leaving in 10 LaVigne. Sarge wants you out front." Caje walks a little closer to the sitting man and notices he's trembling. The look on his face says rage. "Hey, Mom Ami, you OK?" LaVigne looks up and is surprised to see the Cajun in the barn. He looks down at his hands, then opens the one up that has the paper in it. He takes it in his other hand and tries to smooth it out on his out stretched thigh.

"Yeah...sure...I'm OK." He answers the scout sarcastically. "Why shouldn't I be? My Wife," he spits out the words. "and my best friend are only having an affair...of course I'm OK. Oh, but I guess you really can't call it "an affair" ya know...seeing we're divorced and all."

"He was just supposed to take care of them...watch them for me while I was gone. Help her if she needed anything...I guess she must have needed something."

Caje, really not sure what to say to the broken man, puts his hand on his shoulder and says,

"Sorry LaVigne, but Sarge needs ya out front, we're pulling out." LaVigne looks up at him. Tears running down his face.

"I can't go on patrol now...look at me Caje! I'm no good to anyone right now. In fact...I would probably be more of a danger to you then the krauts."

Caje, looking down at his fellow Frenchman decided he had to agree. "I'll go talk to the Sarge. Maybe Nelson could go in your place. You got to take it easy Mon Ami. Sarge says this recon won't be long...we'll talk when I get back. Est-ce que ça va?

"Merci LeMay, je t'en dois une." LaVigne puts his head down in his hands and closes his eyes. Caje turns around and leaves to go find Saunders.

"I tell you Sarge, I don't think it would be wise to take LaVigne with us. He's really broken up."

"OK, Nelson, saddle up...Caje...take the point...Kirby...rear. Move out." As they're marching past Doc and Littlejohn, Saunders tell the Medic, "Keep an eye on LaVigne. He got a bit of bad new and he's not handling it to good...k?"

"Sure Sarge, well keep an eye on him."

Littlejohn and Doc watch as the squad rounds the corner and slowly disappears. Littlejohn gets up to go see if LaVigne is alright. As he walks into the barn he sees LaVigne hunched over the barrel he had been sitting on.

"Hey LaVigne why don't ya come out and help Doc and me finish the coffee Doc made in Billy's helmet? It's getten cold pretty fast seeing Billy needed his helmet, so we had to pour it into cups. We got a couple extra cups filled up out here with no one to drink um. What do ya say...want to join us?" "Sounds good Littlejohn." LaVigne answers back without lifting up his head. "Just give me a couple more minutes. I'm writing a letter. I'll be out in a few." "K but remember...the coffee's getten cold and Billy's got his helmet so we can't warm it up...don't be too long."

Don't know really when it happened. Doc and Littlejohn had, they thought, "kept an eye on him"…

Littlejohn had gotten up again to go see if LaVigne wanted coffee. It had been around 20 minutes since the squad pulled out.

"Doc…get in here quick!"

Hearing the panic in Littlejohn's voice, Doc gets up and runs into the barn. What meets his eyes, is pure horror! There, standing underneath the hayloft, is Littlejohn. In his arms, he's holding LaVigne. But he's not just holding him, he's actually lifting him up so the rope around his neck is slack.

"Doc…get up in the hayloft and cut the rope. I can't hold him much longer!" Doc, understanding the urgency in the situation tells him,

"Just don't let him go! I need to go get me a knife! Hold on Littlejohn…God…just hold on!" As Doc runs back outside toward the fire, he spots Littlejohns bayonet lying where he had left it earlier. He quickly grabs it, turns back toward the barn and dashes in. Two quick leaps up the steps, Doc is over by the beam were LaVigne had tied the rope. Without even trying to be careful, Doc starts hacking at it and after a few false starts manages to get the knife under the rope and finally saws through it. Feeling LaVinge's body going limp, Littlejohn carefully lays the man down in the hay. Doc by now has come down out of the hayloft and gotten down on his knees by LaVigne's body. Handing Littlejohn the bayonet Doc tells him,

"Littlejohn, get the rope off his neck…carefully! He's blue…God…he's blue…I don't think he's breathing!...God I don't think he's breathing!" As Littlejohn gently loosens the noose, Doc lift his head off the hay so Littlejohn can slip it off. Doc grabs LaVigne's wrist and tries to find a pulse. Not locating one, he puts his head down on the man's chest to see if he can detect any sort of life. Again, not finding anything, Doc raises he's head up. In a flat, mono toned voice, Doc quietly states,

"He's dead."

Littlejohn lays the man's head back down on the hay and stands up. Shock is written all over his face. Littlejohn stammers,

"Why?...For God's sake, WHY? What could be so all fire bad, as to make someone want to do this? What Doc? What?" Anger filled the big man's voice as he tried to make sense out of what just took place. Doc, having his own difficulties with the situation, could only shake his head.

"I don't know Littlejohn, I don't know, but we gotta get ahold of Lt. Hanley so he can deal with this."

"Aw, come on Sarge…are we done now? Can we get back so's I can get Doc to give me something for my blisters already?" Kirby, running his mouth as usual, not paying attention as to where he was going, runs into Nelson, who has stopped up short. Up ahead, on point, Caje has his hand up signaling to stop. As he brings it down to signal "take cover" the shooting starts. Several things seemed to happen all at the same time. First, Caje, out front on point, dives for the only cover available, which turns out to be a small mound of dirt. At the same time, Kirby drops his BAR after running into Nelson. As he's trying to retrieve it so he can add to the cover Caje needs, Caje's helmet, struck by a carefully aimed shot from one of the krauts, goes flying off the scouts head and Caje's face hits the dirt.

Caje is hit! Frantic to reach his BAR, Kirby makes a desperate leap out into the line of fire, grabs his BAR in his left hand, rolls over into a sitting position and starts firing back at the krauts. In the mean time, Sarge and Nelson are rapidly returning fire, trying to keep the enemy from hitting both men, who are out in the open. One by one, with Sarge and Nelson's carefully aimed shots, along with Kirby's rapped firing, the Germans numbers start to dwindle down. Finally, with a burst from Saunders tommy gun, the firefight comes to an end.

"Kirby, check um out. Nelson, keep an eye out." With that said, Saunders hurries over to check on Caje. Reaching the Cajun, Sarge notices a rather large, discolored bump starting to rise on the left side of his scouts fore-head. He also realizes that Caje is semi conscious and trying to get up. Kneeling down by his side, Saunders puts his hand on the injured mans shoulder and eases him back down to the ground.

"Just lie still and let me get a look at your head." Caje, mumbling something in French, tries to push his hands away.

"LaVigne, laissez-moi tranquille, je vais bien.'' Sarge tries again.

"Caje, take it easy...your going to be fine, just let me get a look at your head. Lie back." This time Caje does what he's told and lies shakily back down. As he's looking down, Saunders notices his scouts eyes glazing over.

"Caje, Caje...what's going on?" Caje has this far away look in his eyes and again he starts to talk, but again, not to the Sarge but too LaVigne!

"Why are you asking me this? I already told you LaVigne, I'm fine...What's not my fault?...Going?...Going where?...Good-bye?...Attendez...on en reparlera quand je reviendrai...LaVigne...LaVigne." Caje, clearly agitated, again tries to sit up. Kirby, hearing his friend, comes over to see if he can help the Sarge calm him down. As Kirby approaches the two men, Sergeant Saunders notices the glazed look has left his injured scouts eyes.

"Caje...ya with me buddy?" Caje looking at his NCO, gives his head a shake, not a smart move, and in doing so, decides it would be best to lie back down. Slowly he looks around, confusion written on his face. First he looks at Saunders, then at Kirby.

"Where's LaVigne?" Kirby, kneeling down by his friend, gives him a questioning look,

"What da ya mean, where's LaVigne? Don't ya remember...he got some letter from his wife and you and the Sarge decided he shouldn't go on this here little walk. Hell, next time I get me a Dear John letter I ain't going no were either." Sarge, not having the time or the patience to put up with Kirby's antics tells him what he always tells

him...

"Shut-up Kirby!" Again, looking totally confused, Caje continues,

"No...he was here, right here, telling me he was going."

"Going?" Kirby answers "Going where?"

"He wouldn't say, just said he was sorry and he was going and good-bye?" Sarge, looking a bit worried for his rattled scout, puts his hand out, helping him to his feet,

"Let's get you up and out of here. The quicker we get you back to Doc, the better I'll feel. Nelson...take the point."

As the battered and weary little group finally manages to get back to their temporary make shift home, they find its population has grown...considerately! As Sergeant Saunders walks his injured scout over to hand him to Doc, Lt. Hanley comes over to greet him.

"What's up Lieutenant?" Saunders asks as he removes his helmet and runs his hand through his damp hair. The Lieutenant, giving him one of his 'We gotta talk' looks tells him,

"Come with me Sergeant, we seem to have had a mishap here while you were away." As they walk over to what looks like an overturned barrel by a tree stump Sarge notices that Lt. Hanley looks a bit uncomfortable.

"OK, what's goin on?" Without bothering to sugar coat it, the Lieutenant simply replies,

"Your man LaVigne...hung himself this morning." As all the color drains from Sergeant Saunders face, Gil Hanley continues,

"Seems he got a Dear John letter from his wife. Couldn't handle it. Walked into the barn, found a rope, tied it to a beam in the hayloft and killed himself. Littlejohn found him...he and Doc did what they could to revive him, but it was too late. Sorry." As Hanley's talking, Saunders lowers himself onto the tree stump and puts his face in his hands. Hanley continues,

"I'll take care of the detail's, you weren't here when it happened, so its my responsibility anyway, not yours. I do need to talk to your men though, routine." Saunders just shakes his head...

"Right...Right, Let me go talk to them first, if it's OK with you sir."

"Yeah, that'll be fine. And Saunders...there wasn't anything anyone could have done to prevent this. Let your men know that...OK?"

"Right Sir, Thank You Sir."

'Hung himself!...God...how could any one hang himself? Saunders was deep in thought.

How, Dear God, was he going to talk to them about this...and make them understand it was HIS choice and none of them could have done anything to stop him...especially Caje! God, and what about Caje? What the hell happened to him out there? He knew...yeah, he knew something had happened, but how? Did LaVigne actually come to him and tell him? Caje thinks he did...so now what? What do I tell him? That he's at peace? That he's no longer in pain?...Crap...'

As Sergeant Saunders pondered his approach to explaining to his men what happened to Private LaVigne it was kind of taken out of his hands by the one man he was fearful for the most...Private Paul LeMay.

"So Caje...Do you really believe it WAS LaVigne...I mean that he actually talked to you?" Billy was wide-eyed and looked every bit the young, fresh-faced kid he was.

"Yes Billy, I not only believe I saw and talked to LaVigne...I know it. You see Billy, I was raised down in the bayou, it is part of my heritage and I live it daily. The name "Caje" is short for Cajun. Sergeant Saunders started calling me that after my buddy Theó died. In a sense it's a way I can keep him with me, but it also says who and what I am...And that is Cajun, with all it's believes and all its superstitions.

Ne comprenez-vous?...Do you understand?"

"Yeah Caje...I think I do. And I think it was kind of nice of LaVigne to come and tell you Good-bye and all. Ya know, and say it wasn't your fault...real nice."

Yeah Billy...LaVigne was a real nice guy...I'm going to miss him."

Two weeks later, a letter arrived addressed to Private Michael LaVigne. It was from his wife, Mrs. Claire Mae LaVigne. In it was an apology. It seems Mr. LaRue, Michael's bon ami, had other things on his mind. Claire, having been raised Catholic, wasn't about to do anything with him till they got married, she told him. Marriage was the furthest thing from LaRue's mind...so he left. Good thing too, cause right after, Claire, who had been feeling a bit out of sorts, went to the Doctors and found out She and Michael were expecting another baby. You remember the couple of days before he shipped out? Yeah,"they" were going to have another baby, only there was no more "they". It would now be only "her". Six month later, Mandie Michelle was born.

Claire, Janèen, and Mandie LaVigne help keep Michael's memory alive daily...just by living.

The End

If you think you know someone who is fighting through thoughts of suicide...talk to them. If you, yourself are having these though, please, seek someone out and talk. Suicide is NEVER the answer! If this story helps just one person out there, then my husband Mike and of course the one man on this site we ALL LOVE, Rick Jason, did not die in vain. Thank you for letting me use the characters of Combat for therapy.

Donna Mae LaVigne Kearns

Éclaireur


End file.
